Moment Fall

-- Photo by Rachel Granofsky

Everybody must give something back
For something they get.

Bob Dylan -- 4th Time Around

We rushed, from the 15 to the 5, through the cool air of which the bright sun could only shine on, but not heat. We were late. I slept in, finally waking after an intense barrage of dreams I cannot recall, nor wish too. And although I fretted all the way there, I was sure to grab the tuft of hair at the base of her neck, releasing my grip into a smooth caress across her back. One thing I have learned over the past year is that everything and anything can be lost in a moment, and that nothing's forever. So as I sent her up the steps, with a late slip in hand, I felt satisfied that I had taken a moment out of the routine, and treated it as if it was my last. I exited the building that boldly stated its birth date as 1907, and kicked at the dead ochre leaves that tried to cover my shoes as Bob Dylan played on the buds in my ears. The fall has arrived.